Trust Me
by AtlantisJoeFan
Summary: A continuation of the John S and Cat story, following on from my story 'Putting it Back Together'. John is acting strangely and nobody can work out what the matter is. Rated T for some more adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating is T – sometimes more adult themes  
Summary: Romance, Mystery, emotional and physical whump with John Sheppard and now established O/C ; John is behaving out of character and his friends want to know why.  
Season: Season 5, post **_**Inquisition**_**  
Spoilers: Season 5 generally  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though John Sheppard is in my guilty imagination**

**A/N:- This is a follow up to my stories **_**Falling to Pieces **_**and **_**Putting it Back Together**_**. **

The early morning air was cool over her face and arms as she paused for breath from her morning run and looked across the empty ocean. Atlantis was like a grand old lady, her skirts dampened by the mists that rolled in from the mainland; you could almost feel her shrinking back from the cold touch of the water. Cat ran her hand through her blonde hair, which stringily stuck to her forehead from a combination of sweat and early morning dew, and sighed. A few months into her marriage with John, and she should not be out here at the crack of dawn, but curled up in the warmth of his arms. Fat chance, she thought. For the past week, he had come to bed late and, rather than putting his arms around her and kissing her as was their routine, had turned his back to her and fallen asleep. Last night, he had come in reeking of alcohol and thrown his clothes off in a crumpled mess around the room. Mornings were no better: he was either up or out when she woke, or he kept to his side of the bed, barely moving or registering her presence. This morning, she crossed the distance between them, put her arms around his waist and kissed his neck. Her touch had made him jump and he leapt out of bed, (normally he slept naked, but he had taken to wearing the panda t-shirt and jogging bottoms that were his habit in his bachelor days) had a shower and, dressing without a word or glance in her direction, left for work. The rejection had left her stunned, and she had been determined to work-off the pain of it with a much harder run that she was used to these days. It wasn't working. The ache in her chest was more than the result of the exertion. She sat down hard on the edge of the pier, legs dangling, and salty tears mingled with the salty spray from the ocean.

Richard Woolsey was concerned. He had received some disconcerting reports about the uncharacteristic behaviour of his 2iC. He knew John Sheppard well enough by now to appreciate his unflappability, his good nature and his humour, often in the face of the direst problem or difficulty. Yesterday Chief Maria Johnson, the excellent if rather scary Head of Catering in the city, had come to see him. If he didn't know better, he could swear she had been crying. The Colonel had very specific eating habits and hated junk or sugar filled food; she always kept a supply of fresh fruit for him. Unfortunately, the planet they usually traded with had let them down, and she had run out. Her story of the temper tantrum, which included a tirade aimed directly at her with the worst possible language and a plate thrown past her left ear just missing the poor junior assistant standing behind her, was extremely worrying. Just this morning he had received an e-mail from a junior scientist who had accidentally walked into the Colonel in the corridor. The poor man had found himself up against the wall, a pair of very angry eyes boring into him, the bruises on his forearms evidence of the other man's fury. And last night, Harry Burt had radioed him from the bar: Sheppard was extremely drunk and aggressive, and nobody dared to approach him. Finally, he had got hold of Ronon, who forcefully manhandled his friend back to his quarters.

Woolsey was not looking forward to it, but this was a problem he needed to face as soon as possible. No matter how much he respected him, he needed a military commander capable of doing his job, and it looked as though something was very amiss with the Colonel. 'Doctor Sheppard. Do you have time to come to my office, please?' Woolsey buzzed Cat, trying to maintain a casual tone. As the closest to John, she would surely be able to shed some light on what was going on. As an afterthought, he added, just in case her husband took notice, 'Um, I want to talk to you about appointing a new assistant.'

Cat jumped from her reverie at Woolsey's voice in her ear. 'Okay, Mr Woolsey. I'm out for my morning run, but I'll be there as soon as I have showered. How does in an hour sound?' A new assistant sounded promising, she had been hard pressed to keep up with the work since the Alisha Wilson incident, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Woolsey's request. She very rarely had the 'honour' of a one-to-one meeting with him.

Atlantis' premier team had gated off-world early that morning, on a routine visit to a friendly trading planet. One of Woolsey's early directives had been to insist that SGA1 visit all their allies at regular times in the year. John had initially objected to the regularity of these rather mundane and often tedious trips, but Woolsey had a good understanding of diplomacy. John Sheppard and his team were now famous in the Galaxy and so greatly admired by most of the agricultural societies, that it was an honour to be visited by them. This morning, the Colonel had been more than usually bad-tempered about the prospect, and had barely spoken a word before he left, his usual relaxed grin missing and replaced with a dark and brooding scowl. It was this that had finally persuaded Woolsey of the need to speak to Cat.

An hour later, she was in his office. Woolsey, she noted, looked even more uncomfortable than usual, and was shuffling his pen around the desk in front of him. Finally, he spoke. 'Look, Doctor. This is a bit awkward, but have you noticed any unusual behaviour from your husband recently?'

Cat paused. 'I wish I could say 'no' to that, but yes, I have. I just don't know what's going on with him, but I'm assuming it's something I've said and done, although I've been wracking my brains and I can't think what.' Her voice wavered.

'I don't know, Catherine.' Woolsey rarely used her first name, but he could see how upset she was. 'He's been behaving very erratically around the base and I've had several reports about his aggressive and violent behaviour. It is most uncharacteristic and I need to take some action. I thought you might be able to shed some light on what is wrong. Maybe the stress of the last few years is finally taking its toll. I mean, he's been through an awful lot and had to shoulder an enormous burden here. It would only be human to feel the effects.'

Cat took a deep breath. 'I honestly have no idea what is going on with him. He has barely spoken to me in the last week. It just isn't like John to let things get on top of him.'

Unwilling to upset her further, he briefly outlined the reports he had received about John's behaviour, leaving out some of the detail. Cat was most shocked with the Maria Johnson incident, knowing how much John really liked the woman and made a silent promise to visit her as soon as possible.

At that moment, the warning alarm of an incoming worm-hole sounded through the control room. Woolsey started. No-one was due in yet.

'It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC,' said Chuck evenly.

Through the gate came a ragged and breathless group. John led the way, radiating anger, evidence of a bruise forming on his left cheek. Teyla, Ronon and Rodney followed, the latter complaining very loudly about something. Ronon scowled at John and stormed out of the control room, followed by Teyla, who threw a concerned glance back at John before she left.

'Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay, report to my office immediately.' Woolsey beckoned to the pair from the top of the stairs.

Close-up, there was more evidence of bruising on John's face, there was a red graze on his chin, and he was rubbing his right knuckle painfully. Rodney was clearly furious and initially speechless. Cat tried to catch John's eye, but after initially passing a glowering glance between her and Woolsey, his eyes had been firmly glued to the floor.

'Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, will someone please tell me what the hell has been going on and why my military commander looks like he's been in a bar room brawl?'

'Well, we were having a perfectly normal little chat with the natives, when Colonel hot head here decided to take exception to the way this rather large local, no let's call him a Yeti, was looking at him and started a fist fight. Ronon had to pull him off, but not before he came out much the worse for wear and we legged it back through the gate. I think that's one planet where they might be less than happy to see us again,' complained Rodney, then speaking directly to John, 'I mean, what the **** did you think you were doing anyway? When do you ever start a fight? What's got into you?' Rodney was genuinely shocked. Never, in the years he had known his friend had he known him to be other than even-tempered and good-natured, let alone out of control. Yes, it was that which had bothered him the most.

'Yes Colonel, I would like to hear the answer to that question,' demanded Woolsey.

For a moment, John was still and continued to stare at the floor, then he raised his eyes and, staring angrily first at Woolsey and then at Cat, in a way that made her muscles shake with distress, finally stormed from the control room to the surprised and shocked looks of everyone. John was a solid and permanent centre of calm and authority for every single person on the base, and each witness felt an uncomfortable unease at his erratic behaviour.

'I'll go after him,' she said, after a painful pause. 'I'll find out what is the matter, ' and she ran after John.

The lights were off in their quarters when she arrived, but she could hear his breathing and just 'knew' he was there. She would get him to talk to her, she just would, but she also knew that she had to be careful. This was a John Sheppard who she didn't know and he frightened her, and that scared her even more because she never expected to feel that way around _him_ of all people. Once or twice she had hinted to him a little of her childhood, but had never told him the whole truth. Her father was a bitter man, subject to paranoiac delusions about the way others felt about him, and was prone to violent outbursts. More than once, she had felt the force of his hand and once he had split her lip, so violently had he hit her. But, with John, she had always felt absolutely safe, until now.

'John?' she asked cautiously, 'John, are you alright? Can I do anything to help?' As she spoke, she moved towards the bed, where she could just distinguish a shadowy lump and calmly sat on the edge of the bed next to him, gently stroking his back, his face turned away from her. 'My darling, we're all very worried about you. Please tell me what the matter is? Is it something I've done?' her voice was quavering with emotion.

With unexpected speed and force, he grabbed her right hand and forced her onto her back, his body heavy on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

'So, you and Woolsey have been discussing me behind my back have you? I thought as much. What right do you have to do that? I deserve much better from my so called friends,' he hissed, his breath hot on her face. The next minutes were a blur. He kissed her violently, holding her arms so tightly that she could feel the bruises forming, and she could hardly breathe. She tried to struggle against him, but he would not let her go, and he began to tear at her shirt, ripping it as he did. Momentarily, she had an almost out-of-body experience, unable to believe that this was John attacking her, a man normally so sweet and generous in love-making, even when at his most passionate. It was so much a parody of how things were normally between them, that she almost laughed out loud. This was John. He still smelt the same as his skin touched hers, the delicious aroma of aftershave and soap that was him, but this was not the John she knew and loved, no adored. Just when she thought she could fight not longer, he gave up and she felt the weight of his body leave her and heard the door open and close, leaving her sobbing uncontrollably in despair and disbelief. For a couple of hours she lay there, before she tapped her radio and managed to say, 'Jennifer, it's Cat. Please could you come to my quarters? It's urgent.'

'Oh my god, what's happened Cat?' gasped Jennifer. Her friend's shirt was ripped open and there were several buttons missing, and hand shaped bruises were beginning to form a ring around her upper arms, visible just beneath the short sleeves, but the tear-stained face would be enough evidence of the trauma she had just experienced. In between breathless sobs, Cat managed to recount what had happened, all the time feeling like the worst kind of traitor. She was convinced that something had to be wrong with John; maybe some kind of alien presence or bug had caused his dramatic personality swing. A well John Sheppard just wouldn't, couldn't treat her like that.

'Teyla, can you come to Cat and John's quarters please?' Jennifer just didn't know what to do. Cat was hysterical but absolutely clear that she didn't want Woolsey to find out; she didn't want to be responsible for ruining his career. There was no answer from Teyla.

'Chuck, can you tell me where Teyla is right now, please?' Jennifer asked the communications technician.

'I'm sorry m'am, but Teyla is off-world with Colonel Sheppard's team. An urgent request for their support came through from Todd, personally asking for the Colonel. They left about ten minutes ago.'

TBC

_This is something a little different and not just the usual romance and angst that I write about. I wanted to add in some adventure, given that it is what the programme is all about anyway. There will be more romance and whumpage for those who like...!_

_Please R & R as ever. The next chapter will be posted shortly._


	2. Chapter 2

_Quite a lot of this chapter is from a different POV, because it made sense. _

Rodney wasn't happy. Not only had his best friend turned into a psychotic lunatic, attacking huge hairy men for no apparent reason, but now they were back off world again not three hours since the incident; he was hungry, tired and they were about to meet up with Todd who, the last time had tried to kill him and Daniel Jackson, not forgetting the fact that Sheppard had a thunder cloud over his head the size of Florida. If that were not bad enough, Ronon was glowering at John's back and Teyla hadn't said a word for the last ten minutes. Oh, and let's not mention the fact that the walk to Todd's requested meeting place was much longer that they had thought and his feet were killing him. He had thought about complaining, then as quickly buttoned his mouth, keeping off the radar very much the best bet with this team and their current mood.

Ahead, the dense undergrowth began to clear. In the centre of a circular clearing was a table-like structure, clearly naturally formed, and on the table was perched the distinctively tattooed wraith. Rodney knew that, despite the so-called 'bond' between the two, Sheppard did not trust him and would have no hesitation in killing him if necessary, and in his current mood he might even do it just for the sake of it. The atmosphere was incredibly tense, as the wraith stood to his full height to greet them. Ronon tensed behind John and casually readied his weapon.

'Hello, John Sheppard. Thank you for coming. I was not certain you would, given the circumstances of our last meeting.'

John glowered at the wraith. 'Well, let's put it this way, I admit to being hurt that you didn't believe me about the device and I'm not ready to kiss and make up, but I am prepared to listen to what you have to say, now we've come all this way and all.'

Todd looked directly at John. 'I need to talk to you alone, Sheppard. Without your friends.'

Ronon spluttered an expletive, and Teyla took a step forward, but John turned to them and raised his hand. 'It's alright, guys. Stay here. I'll be alright. If I'm not back in five minutes, send in the cavalry.' Ronon started forward and was about to say something. 'And, that's an order', he said more firmly.

Rodney watched the man and the wraith disappear into the forest at the far end of the clearing and cleared his throat. It was evident that there was no conversation to be had here, so he busied himself by watching the two specks on the life-signs detector move away into the trees. Ronon stood to one side, the epitome of an elastic band about to break, and Teyla shut her eyes, hand leaning on her gun. There was hardly any sound apart from the clicking of a distant bird in the tree tops and the gentle rustle of wind through the leaves.

Suddenly, at least a dozen life-signs appeared on the detector and Teyla tensed. 'Wraith,' she cried, just as there was a crashing through the trees from the direction that John had gone, and he came hurtling into the clearing, several drones on his heels.

'Get out of here,' he shouted, 'back to the gate. Run.' Rodney needed no encouragement and set off at a pace, while John and Ronon took their usual positions at the rear. They managed to despatch at least three drones and had just about made it to the gate, when another five appeared at their flank. Rodney had just dialled the gate, and turned to encourage the others to head through, when a particularly large drone caught Ronon point blank with a stunner and he crumpled to the ground. In no time, he was surrounded by another three. What happened next was so difficult to take in, that Rodney couldn't grasp what he was seeing. He heard John shout, 'leave him, he's a gonna', then felt a hand push him through the gate, followed by a tumbling Teyla as she too was shoved from behind.

The gate shut behind them, and Rodney turned on John, face in his and spat out the words, 'You, you left him behind. You don't leave people behind. We don't leave people behind. For God's sake, we have to go back.' The sense of betrayal and loss was overwhelming. The man whose single most important mantra was the saving of others at all costs had left his friend and team mate behind to die, in order to save his own ass.

John turned his back and walked towards Woolsey, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs. In a clear, monotone voice he said, 'Ronon is as good as dead. It was a simple choice: us or him. You can go back if you wish but I doubt if you'll find anything.'

The gate room was silent with shock and misapprehension. Woolsey paused briefly, before barking out two very clear orders. 'Major Lorne, a security team to the gate room please. SGA3 , gear up, you are needed for a search and rescue.' He then turned angrily to John. 'Colonel Sheppard. Please explain to me what just happened?'

'It is simple Woolsey. Ronon was stunned and surrounded by drones. It was my duty to get the rest of my team off the planet safely. ' The lack of respect in his address did not go unnoticed.

Woolsey turned to Teyla. 'Tell me please, Ms Emmagan. Was the situation such that Ronon could not be rescued?'

Teyla glanced at John, then took a tearful breath, feeling the loss of two team mates as she answered. 'We have faced more difficult odds many times. It is my opinion that, had we fought, we could have rescued Ronon.' She took a deeper breath. 'Colonel Sheppard acted to save his own skin.'

A sharp gasp could be heard around the control room, although John did not change his expression.

Woolsey turned to him. 'You are under arrest Colonel. Major Lorne will escort you to the brig, where you will remain while I decide what to do with you. I am deeply shocked at your actions and will need to consult with my superiors and General O'Neill.'

The word quickly spread round the city. Many simply did not believe what they were hearing, while for others it confirmed, as they said, what they always suspected about him. Already, his erratic behaviour had been the talk of the city and his detractors had come out in force. SGA 3 failed to find any evidence of Ronon on the planet, although the energy signatures suggested a wraith hive had been nearby. While they could not confirm Ronon's death, it was difficult to imagine how he had survived the attack. Richard Woolsey broke the news personally to Cat. At first, she met his words with stunned disbelief, then demanded to see her husband. Despite how he had left her and his behaviour then, she still couldn't take on board what she was hearing. It was his unpleasant duty to inform her how John had emphasised that he wanted no visitors, especially his wife, to whom he was adamant he had nothing to say.

***

She watched his seated form on the screen, a sad and lonely figure in black sitting at one end of the cell. What shocked her most was the complete lack of expression on his face. As she spied on him, she tried to find some evidence, a glint in the eyes or a movement of the mouth, that would tell her 'her' John Sheppard was still in there somewhere, but there was nothing. She longed to rush to him, to put her arms around him and feel his warmth against her, to feel again the gentle strength of the man she loved. The brow was a little furrowed under the usual shock of unruly hair, but nothing else passed across his face. For a moment, she lingered on his features, taking them in as possibly the last time she would see her husband, and she wanted to burn them into her memory. From here, she could only imagine the colour of his beautiful eyes, running her eyes over the rest of his handsome face, allowing a longer look at his full mouth and remembering how his kisses had felt. He held his head high, so that she could clearly see the prominent Adam 's apple, and she tormented herself a little with memories of kissing down that neck and the bit just underneath which she loved so much. With one last long look, she turned from her husband and said a silent goodbye, trying to remember him as he had been and not as he was now.

The court martial had been rapid and perfunctory, neither the IOA nor the military having any desire to extend it. General Jack O'Neill and Mr Coolidge personally presided and Rodney and Teyla had the painful task of testifying against John in court ; many doubted that they, especially McKay, would ever recover from the experience. John was found guilty of gross misconduct, and although there was strong evidence of some kind of mental disorder brought on by stress, it was mostly discounted. The end result would have been the same either way. He was stripped of his command and sentenced to a lengthy prison sentence back on Earth. Everyone knew that he would probably never see the light of day again, given his security risk. Within a day he was due to return on board The Daedelus, leaving his beloved city behind forever.

Cat stood towards the back of the control room as she watched Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard escorted from the city for the final time. It was her waiting space, and the last time she would use it, though it had never been to see him leave the city before. She half expected him to turn and wave to her, but his back was stiff and she could tell from his neck that he would not look back. His only goodbye party was the military police escort and the few essential staff necessary to man the gate room, fitting for a man is such disgrace. She watched the gate long after he had disappeared through it, and after it had closed down, then she turned and walked slowly back to her quarters, aware of the sympathetic eyes that followed her, but too proud to show them how much pain she felt. Only when the door closed behind her, did she weep for the loss of her soul mate, her lover and her best friend and the tears didn't stop until nightfall, when she fell into a fitful sleep.

***

The word came through just after midnight. The Daedelus had been attacked by two wraith hive ships and, though intact and with sub-light engines still on-line, they had been badly damaged. The hives knew exactly where to hit, the shields went down immediately and, even though the F302's had done some damage to one hive, both had managed to get away. What puzzled Colonel Caldwell was how a dart had managed to land undetected in the F302 bay, and how two wraith had known where the brig was on his ship. The simply performed heist was most effective and they caught their quarry, springing Colonel Sheppard from his prison within minutes and spiriting him away in the dart. He was gone before they knew anything about it. All Caldwell could do was report back to General O'Neill that they had lost their important prisoner and conjecture on the identity of the kidnappers. Only one wraith could surely have know enough about The Daedelus and Earth technology to undertake such a daring mission. Todd.

TBC

_I had a lot of story to get through in the one. I did think about extending the court scene, but I don't really like court scenes and it didn't really add to the story. What will happen next?_

_Please R & R. You know I am happy for all constructive comments._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks as always to my lovely reviewers. Yes, this is more of an adventure story than I usually write, but the core of the story is still in the relationship between John and Cat and John and his friends. Multiple POV in this chapter, though still some Cat and John._

Atlantis was in shock. John had been virtually hero-worshipped by both military and civilians alike, although there were a few who 'knew' he had always been trouble, but then there always are. Teyla occupied herself with caring for Torren, trying not to think about the two uncles who he would never see again, and with trying to help Cat get through her grieving. Rodney had locked himself in his lab and even Zelenka could not get near him. Katie McKay was very worried about her husband, but quietly allowed him the space he needed, ordering a regular supply of food to be delivered. The city itself was strangely silent; even Rodney's problematic drainage system had quietened, as though she couldn't be bothered to make the mischief. Several systems had shut down when John was imprisoned, and more were beginning to falter after his departure. Quite simply, it appeared that she missed his presence, the spark of energy as he moved through her corridors. And to cap it all, Harry Burt had taken the 'John Sheppard' off his cocktail list.

When news came through of John's rescue/kidnapping/capture by Todd, the Atlantis rumour mill entirely unable to decide which it was, some greeted it with joy, such as Chief Maria Johnson who remained convinced that somehow everything would turn out alright and her beloved Colonel would return to his rightful position. Richard Woolsey did not know what to think. Something just didn't add up, though he couldn't put his finger on it. Somehow, Todd was the key figure in this whole disaster, but for what reason he just couldn't fathom. In any case, he had important business to attend to. It hadn't taken long to appoint John's successor and he was expecting him on The Apollo tomorrow. Woolsey already disliked the man: on paper, he was the worst military type; rigid, unyielding and a stickler for protocol and he had quickly learnt that protocol sometimes needed to be bended a little in Pegasus. As well, he had enjoyed John's lively company and intelligence and his ability to think his way horizontally out of a problem when necessary. Yes, he had a nasty feeling that the transition to Colonel Tom Buxton was not to be an easy one for anyone.

At first, Cat had stayed in her quarters, their quarters, curled up in their bed, wishing the smell of him that lingered there could last forever. While all his possessions had been packed away, there were less tangible reminders of John; occasionally she would find a familiar dark hair and she had taken to wrapping them around the buttons on her shirt. She also had his name, and there was no way she would relinquish that, unless he asked for it back. When she found out about his rescue, she had been initially elated: at least he would escape permanent incarceration on Earth, although what he would do now she couldn't imagine. Most of all, this had convinced her to stay in Atlantis. She had now at least some cause to hope that their paths might cross again; maybe some opportunity for explanation. Eventually, she moved out and into a smaller room near the Archive Department, and went back to her reclusive ways. This way, she would avoid the sympathetic looks or the whispers behind hands that she met wherever she went.

Unfortunately, Colonel Tom Buxton fulfilled everyone's worst expectations. Physically, you couldn't have found a more stereotypical military type, as much as John was not. Buxton sported a sharply defined crew cut on his small head and his jaw was squarely set, like some Action figure doll, only much less attractive. Some more uncharitable members of the expedition also commented on the other part of his body that resembled a plastic doll, or what was missing in that area anyway, and certainly the female population missed the eye-candy that was John Sheppard. He had a nasty aggressive strut and walked with a stick, not for any need, but as a means of intimidating those around him. He had been known to smack a man around the back of the knees with it for slouching and was not averse to tripping up unsuspecting soldiers as he did his city rounds. Whereas John greeted everybody with his winning smile, Buxton's face was pinched into a permanent grimace. He quickly imposed a much stricter regime and banned any socialising between his 'men' as he insisted on calling all his soldiers, male and female alike, and civilians, causing immediate problems for at least a quarter of the city's population and a great deal of ill will into the bargain. Harry's bar was off limits unless a soldier was officially on a rest day and he upped their physical training to five hours per day. Mind you, he would not have been amused at Harry's new cocktail creation. The 'Action Man' was a heady mixture of dark rum, bitters and lime juice, served in an incredibly difficult- to- drink- out -of square glass, and topped with a piece of lemon skewered onto a cocktail stick. Within days of his arrival, Woolsey was inundated with requests for a return to Earth and morale was at an all time low.

Buxton was determined to find and re-capture his predecessor. It hadn't taken long for stories about John to filter back to Atlantis: he had been spotted on this or that planet; had fought off twelve wraith single-handed; was working as Laden's right hand man; had been turned into a wraith worshipper; and, most hurtful to Cat, had set up with a beautiful dark-haired princess, who was already bearing his child. Nothing was confirmed. Daily, teams were dispatched across the galaxy, searching for him, but all had come back empty handed. Major Evan Lorne co-ordinated the missions and everyone was quite surprised that he had fallen so comfortably into the new regime. If anyone were to request an immediate trip home, it was generally felt it would be Lorne, given his previous quite intense and outspoken loyalty to John.

She spent every Saturday night, huddled in a blanket in the corner of the east pier, in their 'spot'. It felt like a kind of memorial to their love, and she would stay there all night, warmed by her memories. When John was around, the city had quickly learned that the pier was off-limits at certain times, and this sensitivity remained. One person kept a careful eye on her during the weekly vigil: Teyla found a vantage point from one of the highest balconies, and each Saturday would perform her own vigil, watching over her friend and in memory of the other they had lost.

***

On a small planet on the outer edges of the Galaxy, Laden gathered himself for the upcoming meeting. Security had to be tighter than ever, especially given the nature of his guests. When initially contacted, he had been unwilling to become involved, but the matter was quickly made more personal when several of his own teams were taken out on recent missions and, with limited resources, he could ill afford to lose either the men or their weapons. Even then he had resisted, but when some prized research into an Ancient tracking system had been stolen from under their noses, he returned the call and agreed to this meeting. Still, this was probably the strangest situation he had found himself in. Any minute now, three of the most dangerous men in the Galaxy would walk into this room; talk about letting the fox into the hen-coup!

The three men painted an odd picture. The tallest, still with his familiar dreadlocks and leather clothes, as ever on high alert, hand tightly gripped around his blaster, the look of distrust and dislike still there after all these years. The second, almost as tall, made Laden start back involuntarily: he had never met a wraith face to face, and this wraith appeared to be smiling. At the front, as always, was the ex-military commander of Atlantis, not in his usual black uniform any more, but wearing a long leather coat, over loose trousers and shirt. Even without the uniform, John had the unmistakeable air of authority. It had taken Laden a while to understand him, his cocky smile and pretty looks belying the tough military man beneath, but he had come to be both respectful and wary. Indeed, without John in command on Atlantis, Laden had allowed his precious alliance to wither, seriously distrusting the new colonel.

John stepped forward smiling and held out his hand. 'It's good to see you, Laden, and thanks for agreeing to meet us. You know Ronon of course,' he said, throwing an ironic smile in his friend's direction,' and this is Todd, though I don't suggest you shake his hand.' With this, he met the wraith's eyes, who raised a non-existent eye-brow and Laden could swear he heard a low deep chuckle.

'Todd?' Laden queried.

'Yep, that's what we call him; one day he might even tell us his real name.' Again he glanced at the wraith, and yes, that was definitely a chuckle this time.

'Colonel Sheppard. Should we get down to business? As far as I know, security here is tight, but given what has been happening recently, we still need to hurry. It's not a good idea to stay in one place for too long. What do you have to offer to the Genii, Colonel that would make an alliance worthwhile?'

'Okay, but I need to start at the beginning.'

***

Lorne was dog-tired. Colonel Buxton had been sending all the teams out, twice a day, searching for John Sheppard. They had found a few trails that turned out to be false, but no more, and he was grateful for that. Today Woolsey was waiting for him in his office and there was no sign of Action Man, as he had named Buxton, currently leading his own team in the search.

'Major. Welcome back. Please sit down.' Woolsey sighed, and Lorne noticed the dark shadows under his eyes. 'What news from out there? Any sign of Colonel Sheppard?' Even now, he could not find another title for his ex-commander: no other seemed to fit him so well.

'No, sir. Not this time.' Lorne cleared his throat. He needed to run something by Woolsey, something that he couldn't say in Buxton's presence. 'Sir, there is something strange going on. At first, it was hardly noticeable, especially given the fragmented nature of the various civilisations in this galaxy, but there seems to be a pattern. Do you remember the report we had from The Travellers that one of their ships had been stolen?' He paused and Woolsey nodded. Larrin had contacted Atlantis a week ago with the news, surprised not to be able to speak to John Sheppard. 'I thought it strange at the time, there being very few peoples of this galaxy capable of such an act, but we bumped into a Travellers' trading party today, and they have heard news of other items disappearing.'

'When you say 'items', Major, what do you mean?'

'Nothing at first that seemed to make any sense, just random Ancient artefacts, some scientific research and a range of weapons, some small, some much larger such as a blue-print for the Genii bomb. Sir, I think that someone is on a gathering mission, sweeping up as much military Intel and hardware as they can that is Pegasus specific, rather than looking for a particular item or weapon. It seems a bit far-fetched but...'

'Not random, Major. Damn it, why didn't we notice this before. This is just the kind of thing that we should be looking for out there, not going on some wild goose chase after John Sheppard.' Woolsey paused, briefly considering whether he should trust Lorne, then made up his mind. 'Have you heard of The Trust?' Lorne nodded. 'In the past, they have used the Stargate programme to stockpile alien technology and weaponry. I was a more junior member of the IOA then, but I remember it well. They even managed to steal The Prometheus from under our noses, but were finally thwarted. Unfortunately, their power has grown again and word has it that they have infiltrated a number of civilian and military power centres. They have people everywhere, probably even here on Atlantis.'

Both men were silent for a moment. It seemed likely that there were Trust operatives in Atlantis, and they could be anyone or anywhere. Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them, a wordless acknowledgement of the need for care and a dawning understanding of the possible significance of recent events.

Woolsey leant forward and spoke more quietly. 'Major, we need to find Colonel Sheppard before Buxton.'

***

Teyla was on a mission. Torren was playing with some of the other Atlantis children, and Katie had agreed to look after him for the afternoon. The lights were low in the Atlantis archives, but she could just see the lonely figure sitting bent over her desk. At first, she thought Cat was working, but on closer inspection her head was on the desk, eyes closed. It was difficult to witness her friend's decline since John's enforced departure from Atlantis. Her usual fine complexion was pale and pasty, the hollows under her cheekbones signifying how much weight she had lost. Teyla knew that it was more than just the fact that John had gone, but the way he had gone: he had seemed to cut her friend completely out of his life, refusing her even the chance to say goodbye, her last memory of contact when he attacked her in their quarters. It was time for Cat to try to put the past behind her and today was the first step.

Striding purposefully to Cat's side, she put her arm gently around her shoulders. 'Come on, Cat, you and me are going for lunch, and I will not listen to any arguments from you. You haven't eaten properly for days and being stuck down here in the dark is not exactly doing wonders for your health. I will not take no for an answer.'

Cat raised her head and met the steady gaze of her friend. Though weakened by recent events, there was still a scrap of the old determined Cat buried beneath the surface. Yes, she thought, it is about time I moved on. And while life could never be the same again, she knew it was time to start living again.

'Alright, Teyla, I'm coming. But no blind dates, do you hear?' The joke felt as hollow as she knew her voice sounded, but at least it was a step in the right direction.

***

The four men sat at the round table, as John began his lengthy explanation. The story he had to tell was all too familiar to Laden, something of an expert in treachery and betrayal.

'I was first approached by one of our senior generals at my wedding.' John recounted the words spoken by General Jack O'Neill that had so angered him at the time and explained to Laden about The Trust and what they had been doing in the Pegasus Galaxy, including as much of their previous history as Laden needed to know. 'It was known that they wanted a stronger foothold in the Pegasus Galaxy: someone in a position of influence in Atlantis. Unfortunately for them, Woolsey was appointed before they could place one of their own. The General believed that they would jump at the chance of having a tame Military Commander.' John paused, allowing Laden to take on board the implication of what he was saying. 'However, given my stated desire to remain in Atlantis and my recent,' he paused and smiled ironically at Ronon, 'good record, we had to find a way to make my fall from favour credible. The plan worked. On Atlantis, I appeared to be a man out of control, for whom the burden of authority had become too much. Fortunately, I was allowed a fellow conspirator in my friend Ronon, here. We needed more than just a stressed Colonel, there had to be some action that would demonstrate my complete incapacity to function in command. So, I contacted Todd here and we arranged the whole sideshow. As soon as I gated back to the city, Todd and Ronon escaped in the hive and waited for word of my court martial and expulsion from Atlantis. From there on, it wasn't too difficult. We just needed to plan my 'rescue' from The Daedelus.'

These were the bare bones, but John excluded all mention of the behaviour of which he was most ashamed. He hadn't forgotten the terrified look on her face as she fought him off, nor the shadowy figure standing so silently in the control room, watching him leave from her 'secret waiting place'. He had never let on that he knew about it. More than anything, at that moment, he had wanted to turn, smile and wave a reassuring hand at her. Even if all this worked out, he doubted whether there was anything left for the two of them. In the end, he had put duty and country ahead of the woman he loved with all his heart, the only woman he had ever loved, knowing that the chances were that he had condemned himself to a life without her.

'Colonel, are you alright?' Laden's voice cut through his thoughts.

'Yes, I'm fine. Sorry, I'm a little tired. Let's get this finished. You see, the dual benefit of my conviction and my so-called rescue, is that it has allowed The Trust to replace me, meaning that we at least know the face of our enemy, and I am able to be out here, chasing down Intel and if possible preventing a few heists,' John finished, suddenly worn out by the whole thing.

'And that is where we come in, I presume?' queried Laden.

John continued wearily. 'Yes. With your informants so well-placed throughout the Galaxy, we should be able to gather information in a more co-ordinated way and hopefully grab ourselves some prisoners to the bargain. If I remember, the Genii have a fair few prison cells which need filling.' Again, he glanced at Todd, who met his eye with a serious nod. The shared memory of those days was not a joking matter. 'We have some support from Earth, although it is limited and we have to be wary. I also have a couple of contacts back on Atlantis who I can trust and then there is the small group of hive ships under the command of our friend here. You need to know, that we are virtually on our own with this, until we begin to make some headway and weaken the opposition.'

Laden was a man who made quick decisions and he trusted the man sitting in front of him. He rose quickly, and they shook hands on the alliance. 'Now, Colonel, there is an old friend who would like to talk to you. Would you join us in a celebration of our agreement?'

John assented and watched Laden's back as he left the room. 'Well, that went better than I expected, 'he said to Ronon.

'Yeah, but let's watch our backs. They are Genii after all.' Ever a man of few words, Ronon had stood guard for the whole proceedings. He had not hesitated when John asked for his help. While Atlantis had been his home, it could not remain so if The Trust had power there, and he had no wish to see yet another group vie for power in his galaxy. His loyalty to his friend was also such that he would follow him and protect him, regardless of danger or personal cost. It had been hard watching the reactions of others to John's erratic behaviour and he had tried to talk him into confiding with Cat. That was not possible, John had said. His orders precluded it, on the basis that they needed genuine reactions from the people most close to him in order to make the whole charade more convincing. Likewise, they needed Rodney to behave like Rodney. John knew that his friend was a useless liar, despite claims to some sort of theatrical prize at school and he had the comfort of knowing that Katie would be there to help him through it. Teyla had Torren and Kanaan and he was certain she was strong enough to cope. She would at least be there for Cat, he was sure of that.

For now, they had a brief respite and took time to celebrate the strange triumverate of a disgraced colonel and his Satedan sidekick, a wraith commander and his rag-bag group of hives and the old enemy, The Genii. The old friend revealed himself as Doctor Thaddeus Roedan and John was glad to see him, despite the memories it brought back of his wedding day. Roedan was anxious for news of Cat, once a patient always a patient he said, and John had to painfully recount recent events.

'Stay positive, John', he said, 'This may all work out for the best you know. For the little time I have known her, your wife has shown herself to be a compassionate and gentle person. She may yet have room in her heart to forgive you.'

John wished he could believe him.

TBC

_Please R&R. Constructive criticism always welcome! I will try to post the next chapter quickly, but I do need to work through the complexities of the story._


	4. Chapter 4

_Right, so I now need to move this story forwards. Lots about to happen here._

General Jack O'Neill was worried. The breadth of Trust infiltration into Atlantis was an unknown, and the longer Colonel Tom Buxton remained in charge, the more danger the city and the galaxy would face. He had not been surprised when he found out about Buxton: he was the type of man who could easily be persuaded by the promise of unlimited weaponry and technology. It was how The Trust worked: by needling away at the military weak spot, the almost childish desire for more fire-power in the name of patriotism, and the more stupid fell for it every time. That was what differentiated him from someone like John Sheppard: from the moment they met, when the pilot had saved him from Carson's drone, he had recognised the quality of the younger man, and he knew that he had just the character and 'off' thinking skills to manage the Pegasus situation. Right now, however, Jack felt out of the loop which he hated, still missing the action of the field. He also felt mightily guilty for placing Sheppard in this situation and for probably wrecking his marriage, vowing that, given a successful outcome to the mission, he would do everything in his power to make it right for the couple. God knows, he had blown enough chances in his time! For now, it was a waiting game, and he had never been especially good at that. He tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk and made a decision. There was at least something he could do.

'Colonel Caldwell. Can you come to my office please?'

***

On the surface, Atlantis appeared no different. The suns still rose and set, bathing the city in an amber glow in the morning and the New Lantean nights were still cold and crisp under the twin moons. But, it didn't take much scratching beneath the surface to reveal that something was not right. In the day time the corridors were lacking their usual laughter and vivacity and the evenings were not much better. And it was down to the lack of one man: John Sheppard had literally been the life and soul of the city. His sense of irreverent fun had pervaded every corner; literally it lit up for him but he also metaphorically lit up the lives of everyone who lived there.

A sombre, silent and much reduced team sat at 'their' table in the refectory. Around them the other tables were full, but the usual noisy chatter was a dull mumble. The new Military Commander had managed to suppress in a few weeks what it had taken John five years to build: a sense of community spirit; a unity born out of family feeling. Rodney had finally come out of his rooms and was sitting in uncharacteristic silence; Teyla was silently feeding a very quiet Torren and Cat was pushing her food around her plate with a fork.

Cat looked up and smiled at the man heading their way because he was attempting to appear casual and completely failing to do so. Lorne was through and through a military man, much more so than John, and he didn't do nonchalant well.

'Hi, Evan. How's things?' she asked.

The major cleared his throat, sat down rather uncomfortably on 'John's chair' and said in a low voice. 'Well, you know, I'm just heading off-world on yet another search mission.' The thought of John caused Cat to flush. 'I, um, I might be meeting an old friend while I'm there.' He caught Cat's eye, giving her an almost imperceptible nod. 'Unfortunately, this is just a military mission, so we can't take civilians, but I will bring back any news of, um...er artefacts for the Archive department, if we happen to find any.' He smiled lightly again, before leaning over to Rodney's plate and pinching the last of his Chocolate brownie, then sauntered back out of the room.

Cat looked from Rodney to Teyla, trying to keep her expression neutral. Old friend? Artefacts? John? And, even if Lorne found him, then what? Maybe, just maybe she would be able to ask some of the questions she needed him to answer, or she could at least say a proper goodbye? She wasn't about to kid herself that they had any kind of future, there was no scenario she'd been able to create that would allow for that, and believe me she'd tried. She was about to say something, when an awareness crept up her spine, and she looked over her shoulder, certain that she was being watched and, though no eyes seemed to be on her, she closed her mouth and started playing with her food again.

Well, there was nothing she could do about any of it in any case. She'd just have to wait for Lorne's return.

***

The bar was typical of many in the galaxy: noisy, smoky, and dirty, with a rag-bag of undesirables gathered in incoherent groups in its shadows. John and Ronon were sitting in the darkest corner, trying not to draw attention. It wasn't easy. Men of Ronon's size were often the target for smaller men desperate to prove their worth and alcohol certainly fuelled that desire; he had been in several fights over the last few weeks. A scuffle broke out at the bar, gathering in at least a dozen of its inhabitants, most of whom were thankfully failing to hit their target. As ever, a few chairs were broken, there were some cut heads and lips and someone was thrown out, then it was over as soon as it had started. Ronon wasn't the only one who attracted attention. John smiled at the irony of it: in his teenage years, eager for female attention, he could have been the invisible man, but it seemed that women in the Pegasus Galaxy liked his older, more rugged, unshaven and slightly grubby appearance and he could have had any number by now. The last had literally sat herself on his knee, thrust her breasts into his face, grabbed his crotch and tried to 'have her wicked way with him' then and there and Ronon hadn't been any help, just smiled an evil smile as John tried to fend off her advances.

Luck had been with them. Their fortunes had definitely shifted since they had hooked up with the Genii and the unholy alliance seemed to be holding. Todd had discovered the location of the missing Traveller ship, along with a stockpile of weapons on an uninhabited planet where The Wraith had once had a base, a planet not yet on Atlantis radar. The alliance had also located three other weapon and artefact stockpiles, The Trust's foothold considerably weakened, and The Genii cells were filling up nicely. It was also fortunate that Larrin already had some dealings with Todd, otherwise his attempt to give her the good news might have involved more than just a few well-aimed shots from both sides, and now a fourth party had joined with them. Larrin had contacts around the galaxy, The Travellers needing to trade on the ground for supplies, and was well placed to pick up Intel on possible Trust activity. How The Trust had managed to steal the ship, John hadn't yet fathomed.

Until a few days ago, he had also failed to find a way to access his Atlantis contact. The Genii had people on the ground in numerous outposts and John used this to his advantage. To each group was passed a description of Lorne and a hand written note from John: they couldn't risk any more, not knowing who on Atlantis might be implicated. By now, he could have approached any number of teams as they continued their search for him, but the man he needed to speak to was not on any of them. It saddened John to watch from a distance the familiar faces of his men, all of whom he knew personally, many of whom he counted as friends. If he ever got back to Atlantis, he would really need to retrain them in stealth tactics: an elephant could have avoided them on the open plains, so loudly did they announce their arrival. Finally, Lorne had been contacted and the note passed.

The door of the bar swung open and a small group of men in familiar grey uniforms entered. It was the kind of place where no-one took much notice of who came or went, and John knew there were Genii marksmen already placed, in case of trouble. While he was certain of Lorne's loyalty, O'Neill had warned him not to trust anyone. With a quick word to his men, Lorne made his way over to their corner, raising a surprised eye-brow when he saw Ronon.

'Sir. It's good to see you. And Ronon?' Lorne was the master of ironic under-statement. 'What can I do for you?'

'Yes, good to see you too, Evan.' John smiled and Ronon nodded a greeting. He gestured in the direction of the other men. 'Can they be trusted?'

'I think so, sir, although with things as they are on Atlantis, you can't be sure.'

It was John's turn to raise an eyebrow. He was desperate for news from the city, for more than just business reasons. Lorne quickly filled him in on new military commander and the mistrust that he was held in, as well as his impact on city life in general. John wasn't surprised. Buxton was not only typical of a certain military man, he was also just the type to be turned by The Trust, but it grieved him to hear how bad things were in his beloved Atlantis. However, it comforted him a little to see the look of relief on Lorne's face as he filled him in on the reasons for his behaviour and the events of the last few months, including details of the alliance and their successes so far.

'Well, I knew there had to be something up, Sir. There are many of your men who feel there must be some kind of explanation for what happened. You are still held in very high regard.' Lorne had never doubted his CO, one of the reasons why he had put up with Buxton's command and stayed on Atlantis.

'That's good to hear.' John paused. 'How are Rodney and Teyla?'

'Not so good. It took Mckay several weeks to emerge from his lab after you left and he's surprisingly untalkative. Teyla looks after Torren and I think he keeps her mind off things for most of the time. Only in the last few days have they started to talk to each other at all. In fact, I found them having lunch at your usual table today, though it didn't look as though they were exactly socialising.'

John hesitated. 'And Cat? How is she?' He ached at the mere mention of her name, and saying it out loud felt like a knife through his heart. Apart from his conversation with Thaddeus Roedan, this was the first time he had allowed himself to utter it, and it gave such a physicality to her that he could almost imagine her there with him.

'I spoke to her today, Sir.' Lorne hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should say to his CO, then continued, 'She's in a bad way. Nobody could get near her for days after you left and she shut herself away in the Archives; she's even moved to a small room down there. Teyla finally managed to talk her out, but, I won't pretend to you Sir, she doesn't look well. She's lost a lot of weight and looks tired and I don't think she's eating properly. Teyla keeps an eye on her, as do a lot of us. She is held in great affection by many in the city and we've tried to look after her for you. She spends every Saturday night on the east pier still, and we have a rota of guards that keep people away so that she can have her privacy.' Lorne looked at John. 'You know, I could probably find a way to get her to you, if you want? I kinda hinted to her this morning that I was meeting with you and I'm pretty sure she got the message.'

John looked down at his hands, trying to gather his thoughts and emotions. This was not the time for awkward reunions, not with them being so close to their objective. Her honest reaction to his seeming betrayal might still be necessary, but most of all he feared placing her in any more danger than she was already in.

'We have a plan, Lorne, a good one, but we're going to need your help. I have a contact on Atlantis and I need you to get a message to him, well more like a key word. He will know what to do.'

As a final thought, John pulled the leather string from his shirt, and unattached the gold Athosian ring that he always wore round his neck. 'Give this to Cat, please Lorne. Just say...just say that one day maybe she can give it back.'

***

Chuck sat quietly at his work-station, as always drawing little or no attention to himself. Ever since he'd been a little boy, he'd an uncanny ability to become the anonymous face, the one whose name people couldn't quite remember. And yet, ask anyone on Atlantis who one of the most trustworthy and effective members of the mission was, and they would probably say the little quiet communications technician. Woolsey had yet to remember his name correctly even though, and he chuckled at this, he'd been able to remember Amelia Banks' immediately. He glanced at his tall colleague. Although the relationship with Ronon had been an unconventional one, it hadn't stopped her grieving his loss and, as with so many of Atlantis' inhabitants these days, she rarely smiled any more.

His station lit up with a warning. 'Incoming worm-hole,' he routinely announced, 'It's Major Lorne's IDC.'

Woolsey strolled to the top of the balcony as was his habit to welcome the men home. Even now, when he heard that message, he half-expected John Sheppard to walk through, followed closely by Ronon. 'Welcome back, Major. Anything to report?'

Lorne shook his head. 'No, sir. No sign of Colonel Sheppard.' Woolsey smiled. When would the man stop using that title? Well, probably about the same time as him!

'Thank you, Major. You look tired. Send me your report later.'

Lorne dismissed his team-mates, watched Richard Woolsey return to his office, and casually strolled up the stairs towards Chuck. Leaning on his work station he said, 'I'm sorry Chuck. Still looking when I go off-world, but haven't managed to find the _corkscrew_ you want. Better luck next time, eh?' Then, patting Chuck amicably on the shoulder, he left to clean up and file his report.

***

Fiddling with the small item in his pocket, Lorne checked over his shoulder to see if he was being followed, then headed off to the Archive Department. He had decided that, if questioned, he would admit to having a bit of a crush on the chief archivist. At least that way, his visits might seem less unusual. He wouldn't really be telling a lie either, but he would never admit that out loud.

Cat was buried in her work, as ever, and didn't hear his soft footsteps. 'Oh, God, Evan, you made me jump!'

He leant over her shoulder as if reading the screen on her computer, and quietly placed the ring on the keyboard. 'He said you should keep this until you can give it back to him,' he whispered, then to add some credence to his alibi, kissed her gently on the cheek, squeezed her shoulder and left.

Cat put her hand over the ring and closed her eyes. Hope. Yes, some hope maybe?

***

John watched as the dart landed and the familiar figure disembarked. He still wasn't used to this 'special' relationship and reminded himself that, once all this was over, he would need to start watching his back again. A little to one side, a small Traveller ship had landed and Larrin was already waiting with a small bodyguard, though why she needed one he couldn't imagine! Laden was next to him, waiting to agree on the final details of their plan. Within the next hour, three hive ships and four Traveller ships, along with a contingent of Genii, would descend on Atlantis. John refused to use the word 'attack', the thought of damaging any part of that beautiful city abhorrent to him, though if necessary he would. His contact on Atlantis had managed to get a message to him. The chair room would be inaccessible, at least for a short time, hopefully long enough for the plan to work. The only problem might arise was if Rodney decided to play the hero and unlock it. He was relying on his old friend to work out what was happening, but knowing McKay the penny would drop too late.

***

It was early morning in the city. Buxton was in his office. He'd had some worrying reports from some of the operatives and it was becoming clear that his position, if not already, would soon be compromised. There were no longer enough numbers on the ground to do any damage, and those that were left were gathering to return to Earth, a half dozen at the most. With so many others either killed or in captivity, someone sooner or later would squeal. He had the feeling that very shortly he would be in a lose/lose situation, unable to stay put, but going back to Earth would be as good as signing his death warrant. Still, he had his orders and was about to put the contingency plan in place.

'What the...?' The attack alarm system was blaring its warning across the city. 'Control Room, Mr Woolsey, what's happening?' he yelled into his radio as he hurtled down the corridor.

'Three hives, and what look like four Travellers' ships, sir, just came out of nowhere,' answered Chuck.

'How didn't we sense them earlier? Are the sensors malfunctioning? Never mind, I'll be there in a minute.'

Woolsey was already at his post, on the radio to Mckay. 'Doctor McKay, can you please tell me what is going on? How is it possible that we didn't detect anything?' 'Major Lorne, to the chair room immediately. We may need you to fire the drones.'

'Already on it, sir, but the doors won't open into the chair room. It's jammed.'

Buxton stormed into the control room. He already had a damn good idea what was going on, and this was where he needed to be to set his plan in motion.

Cat had just had her shower when the alarms went off and Teyla rushed into her room, Torren in her arms.

'The city is under attack, Cat. I do not know the details yet, but I think we should get you to the underground jumper bay. John made me promise him one thing before he left, that I would always keep you safe and I owe him that much. I want you to take Torren with you. Please, Cat, I need you to do this. The jumper has been ready for such a contingency for many months. Cloak as soon as you can and head for New Athos. There will be people there ready to help you.'

The city was in pandemonium and nobody took much notice of the two women running towards the transporter and they headed down to the bay, unhindered. Teyla gave Cat her son, kissing him tearfully, then leant forward and pressed foreheads with her friend. 'We will meet again, soon, Catherine Sheppard, I am sure of it. Take care of my son'. Then, with one last look she was gone.

'Okay little man,' she said, looking down at the smiling child who was thoroughly enjoying the excitement. 'Here goes nothing!' and she started up the jumper and headed up through the water, shielding as soon as she could.

Rodney McKay ran to the control room, laptop in hand. He was puzzled by Woolsey's request: there was no problem with the sensors, in fact the system clearly showed the ships had been identified some two hours previously. Not normally 'Mr Sensitive', he recognised something in Chuck's tone which had stopped him revealing this fact to Buxton and he had known Lorne long enough to recognise the slightly uncomfortable twang to his voice when he was lying. Something was going down, and he needed to be clearer what it was before he decided what to do. He quickly took in the scene before him. Chuck was sitting quietly, head down, appearing to work at his station, Woolsey was striding manically around the room and Buxton had removed Amelia Banks from her position and was punching something into computer in front of him.

'Doctor McKay. I need you to open the chair room doors immediately,' shouted Woolsey.

'Alright, alright, just give me a moment. I'll see what I can do.' Rodney glanced in Chuck's direction and saw the almost imperceptible nod, then on his lap top screen in small letters at the top appeared the word 'John'.

At that moment, the screens on all the computers lit up with a very familiar face. 'This is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. You are surrounded and your weapons systems are useless. Surrender or we will destroy you.'

Cat passed the strange fleet silently and unnoticed. It was difficult to imagine under what circumstances the Wraith and the Travellers would hook up and she certainly wasn't about to stick around to find out. She was heading off alone into the Pegasus Galaxy, and god knows if she would ever return to Atlantis. Clutching John's ring in her hand, she wondered if he too was out there somewhere, and she dwelled on that rather than the gnawing fear that she felt. Suddenly, a hyperspace window opened up right in front of her. She tried to manoeuvre out of the way and nearly made it when the momentum of the large ship in front of her shoved the little jumper off its path. She felt the engines stall and was aware of an odd feeling of weightlessness before the world went black.

TBC

_Okay, I know for all you lovers of JS, his body etc, that there wasn't too much to get your teeth into in this chapter, but don't despair, there is more to come._

_Please R&R, you know I like it!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Well, here go. John's back but where's Cat? Thanks for the lovely reviews._

'Sheppard?' The single word question asked a multitude. 'What is going on?' McKay was trying to compute the significance of what was happening and thought he was nearly there. The familiar face looked somewhat more worn that when he last saw him, at least a week's beard covering the bottom half of his face and the eyes which usually shone with a humorous or ironic twinkle were deadly serious with dark shadows underneath, as though the man hadn't slept for days. There was something hard in them that Rodney hadn't seen in his friend before and it made him nervous.

'Hi, Rodney. Look, I'm sorry about this but it is necessary. Is Colonel Buxton there?'

Buxton moved to within John's view. 'I'm here, Sheppard, what do you want?' he sneered.

John took a moment to check out the man's appearance. Yes, it was exactly as he had expected; after all, in a career dogged with its fair amount of controversy, he'd come up against his type too often. He laughed at the irony of the situation. There he was, black-marked for disobeying an order given by just one such of these rigid military types, stripped of his military rank and teamed up with a bunch of wraith, terrorists and space nomads, and there was Buxton, apparently clean-cut, all-American, honest-as-the-day-is –young, a member of one of Earth's more sinister organisations. Oh yes, appearances could certainly be misleading.

'It's over for you, Buxton. As we speak, Lorne and his men are rounding up your operatives. Chuck here, and now I suspect Rodney, Mr Woolsey and Banks too, are beginning to work out what is happening. The Trust's Pegasus operation is in disarray and we have you surrounded and, oh yes, there's a little surprise package on its way too. It's over for you Buxton. Give it up.'

Too late, John recognised the look on Buxton's face. He'd seen it before, in the eyes of other soldiers who knew they were finished. 'Rodney, Chuck, grab hi m!' he shouted. A shot rang out from the floor of the gate room and Buxton fell in a crumpled heap, but not before he had pressed the button in front of him and activated the city's self-destruct.

'Rodney?' queried John.

'Too late, and he's input a very strange code, one I haven't seen before. Give me a moment; let me see what I can do.' Rodney tapped on the keyboard. 'We don't have much time. It's set for 10 minutes.'

'Crap! Look, there may be someone who can help. Hold on.' Sheppard's face disappeared, leaving a stunned silence in the room. For a moment, Rodney's gaze was frozen to the screen, before he shook his head and went back to his laptop.

'Another ship has just entered orbit, Mr Woolsey.'

'What, who is it Chuck?'

'It's The Daedelus, sir.'

A familiar white light buzzed, transporting the figure of a man into the gate room.

'General O'Neill!' Richard Woolsey was reduced almost to monosyllables. Not normally a slow man, his sequential brain was taking a while to catch up with events. I mean, first it looked as though they would be wiped out by an attack fleet that came out of nowhere, then Sheppard appeared, sounding very much like his old self (and what was he doing on board a Traveller ship anyway?), then he found out that his new 2iC was a member of The Trust, who promptly set the self-destruct with some kind of mysterious code, getting himself shot in the process and now The Daedelus was here ahead of schedule depositing the senior General of the Stargate program into his gate room with apparently the answer to the puzzling Trust code!

Jack O'Neill wasted no time with pleasantries. In his time with the SG he had many dealings with The Trust. Sitting in his office back on Earth he had one of those epiphanies that had made him so famous. What he needed to do was head to Atlantis on The Daedelus, taking with him whatever information he had on The Trust, which fortuitously included a programme they had developed to break some of the older Trust codes. He only hoped that the genius who was Rodney McKay could find a way to use it and quickly otherwise the chances are that this would be a one way trip.

'Here, Mckay. It's a decoder the SG put together. It's a bit out of date, but you might be able to do something with it.' The General hovered over Rodney's shoulder in a very familiar way, so much so that he jumped when John's face and voice appeared on the main screen again.

'How are we doing, Rodney?' he asked impatiently, while O'Neill breathed down the scientist's neck. Later he would vent some spleen about cocky, messy haired, interfering flyboys.

'Hold on, wait a minute.....got it.' The grating alarm stopped, leaving the room in stunned silence.

Rodney looked up at his friend in relief, a natural first place to make eye-contact and smiled. 'That's it, Sheppard. We're in the clear.' Then, after a slight pause he said, 'you can come home now, John.'

Woolsey was standing to one side, just about catching up with events. 'Hold on, Doctor. As far I as am aware, Colonel Sheppard is still a convicted and escaped prisoner and as such we would have to take him into immediate custody if he returned.' He turned to John. 'You might wish to consider that Colonel. At the moment, you are still in a position to escape.' Woolsey spoke these words very deliberately, hoping that John would get the message and was slightly surprised when the so-called felon broke into a lopsided grin.

'I think the General can put you right on that one Mr Woolsey. I'll let him fill you in while I try to land this bucket, er..ship, on the pier. See you in a bit. I have a surprise for you McKay: you might want to bring Teyla down here with you.' And he left O'Neill to fully explain the truth of the last weeks and why there was really no need to further incarcerate Atlantis' Military Commander.

The quartet that that re-united on the pier was a touching one. While the rest of the pier was a bustle of activity, a few of the ship's crew temporarily disembarking for debriefing, including Larrin who shot them a rather irritated look as she passed, they could only focus on each other. Teyla ran towards the big dreadlocked figure as soon as she recognised him and he took her up his arms and swung her round. Rodney accepted the bear-hug with much more grace than usual and even broke into a smile before he turned to John. For a moment they stood uncomfortably, making and breaking eye-contact like a couple of embarrassed teenagers, then for the first, and if Rodney had anything to do with it, the last time in their relationship they awkwardly hugged, then quickly shuffled back, hands in pockets.

John cleared his throat and licked his lips, both nervous habits that showed hi s discomfort with emotional scenes. He turned eagerly to Teyla. 'Where's Cat, Teyla. I need to see her; I need to sort things out, try to explain. There are things I did that she might not forgive.'

Teyla's face showed a dawning realisation. It wasn't that she had forgotten her son and her friend, it was just that she was so convinced of their safety, by now under the protection of her family on New Athos, and so rapt in the miraculous return of her two team-mates, that the fact that John's wife and her son were not in the city had slipped her mind. 'She's not here John,' she said, then seeing his face fall she continued, 'It's not what you think. She's not gone far, 'and she explained what had happened. 'I am so sorry, John. If I had not been so quick to panic about Torren's safety, she would still be on Atlantis. I'll get a message through to Halling as soon as possible and let her know it is safe to return.'

Yes, he was disappointed, but it would at least give him a chance to have a wash, a shave and put back on his precious black BDU's. Only then would he feel truly home.

***

Cat opened her eyes to a blur of white and red, disorientated and dizzy, but still holding on to the chortling toddler, who seemed to find the ride quite exciting. She tried to remember: something had hit her, yes that was it. The engines, there was no sound from the engines. And she was spinning, her world a constant haze of distorted shapes and eerie silence. The baby...she had to protect the baby. What to do? From somewhere she remembered an instruction from the John Sheppard book of jumper flying about preventing a stall, something about thinking the emergency brake on and steering into the spin. No idea where she was, or how close to any ground or other hard objects, she focused all her concentration and eventually the spinning slowed. Cat put her body protectively over Torren, who was now beginning to cry, and shut her eyes. His ring was still in her hand as the jumper crashed into the New Lantea Ocean and began to sink.

***

John had just got out of the shower when the call came in. It was strange showering in the guest quarters, all his stuff had been packed away and his old quarters and office taken over by Buxton, but he had taken his time, revelling in the warm water that ran down his body. The sheer pleasure of standing naked, with the perfectly heated water cleansing his sore and aching body, had made his stay much longer than normal and he didn't hear the buzz of his ear-piece. The first gift from McKay had been the familiar radio receiver, something he had sorely missed. In his first two weeks away he had often absent mindedly tapped his left ear, as a matter of habit. It wasn't until a loud voice came through on the P.A. that he woke from his daydream.

'Colonel Sheppard to the control room, please?' Well, that had a familiar ring to it! John towelled himself down, scrubbing the water off his unruly hair. Not for the first time, he grumbled inwardly about the problems of being a hairy man: it just took so damn long to get dry, and he was still damp when he forced his black uniform over sticky skin. He had at least had a shave, and just about had time to run his hands through his hair. Truth be known, he usually spent a lot of time teasing his spiky locks into some sort of shape, though why he bothered he didn't know. His hair had a mind of its own, and would fall into whatever pattern it had decided upon within ten minutes of any styling attempt. Today was even more problematic, with more weeks' hair growth than he would normally allow and he looked a little wild as he left the room.

He took a fast pace to the control room, permitting himself just a little time to register the surprised stares of those in the city who had not heard about his return: one or two standing frozen in place, as though they had seen a ghost. Others visibly relaxed at the familiar figure and, as he ran along the corridors, the more romantically minded among them saw the lights of Atlantis brighten and glow an iridescent blue as she welcomed her favourite son home.

Teyla was already there, visibly shaken and pale. 'John?' was all she could get out before she started to shake and cry. Ronon placed a strong protective arm around her and threw a sympathetic look in John's direction.

'What is it? What's happened?' John asked anxiously.

'Colonel Sheppard. It's good to see you back where you belong.' John turned his attention to the face on the screen.

'Colonel Caldwell. Thank you, sir,'

One thing that John had always admired about Caldwell, despite the run-ins that they had had in the past, was his business –like demeanour and his directness.

'Ms Emmagan has just confirmed that a jumper had indeed left the city as we arrived. We didn't spot it at first, but Lieutenant Brooks noticed an odd energy reading as we came out of hyper-space. From the unusual patterns, it would appear that a small shielded ship took a glancing blow from us; had the ship not been shielded the impact would have been more obvious. He's tracked the craft, which we are now certain is your jumper, and has estimated a rough area of impact on the planet. It would appear that they crashed somewhere in the Northern Ocean. We are performing a sensor sweep as we speak, Colonel. 'Caldwell paused as he registered the distress John was showing, and then added, 'We will find them, Sheppard. As soon as we have any news, we'll get back to you. Caldwell out.'

John turned to Teyla and put his hand on her shoulder, his voice shaking with the need to hold onto his emotions, and made eye-contact. 'They will do everything they can, Teyla. I am sure they will find them and my wife is an excellent pilot.' John's first instinct had been to grab a jumper and head out himself and he was still prepared to do so if the word came back that they hadn't been found. For now, they would have to play the role of anxious bystanders, a role that none of them felt comfortable in, but John was a less reckless man now than the younger pilot who had first walked through the gate. He'd learned that there were times when there really was nothing _he_ could do.

They stood together, frozen in time, waiting. Rodney had arrived, and with Zelenka was busy trying to plot the exact location of the missing jumper, just in case, but also to keep himself from thinking about the consequences for his friends if the news was bad.

'Atlantis, we have them, I repeat we have them. We'll beam them directly to your infirmary.'

Details could be grappled with later. For now, all John and Teyla needed was to see their loved ones alive and well and they raced along the corridor to the infirmary.

Groggily, Cat became aware that the world wasn't spinning any more. She looked into her arms and sighed with relief as she saw the bundle there, looking up at her with his pretty brown eyes and she tightened her hold protectively. Why was she shivering so much? Her skin felt clammy and cold, her clothes clinging to her uncomfortably. Wet? Yes, she was definitely wet. She tried to look around her, focus on her surroundings. The walls were further away than she expected. Not the jumper, then? Noises and voices began to permeate her awareness; familiar voices, she thought, but distant. One voice became clearer, a gentle female voice.

'It's alright, Cat, you are safe, you are home, back in Atlantis, in the infirmary. You can let go of Torren, now. Come on, we need to get you into a bed so that we can check you over; we need to make sure he's alright too.'

She looked up into Jennifer Keller's eyes, still unwilling to release her hold on her precious charge, and somewhere to her left she heard the sound of running feet.

A figure leant down beside her, another sweet female voice. 'Teyla?'

'Yes, Cat, it's Teyla. You can give me my son now. You have kept him safe for me.'

Reluctantly, she finally released the child to his mother's arms. Strong arms wrapped around her, a husky, dark male voice telling her that everything would be alright. A handsome face, with hazel eyes. She felt warmth from a body, and resting her head against it, took in a familiar male smell. It felt good and she was sorry when it was gone and she was cold again. Someone took off her wet clothes, and she felt the softness of a bed and of warm covers, before she drifted back into unconsciousness.

John sat next to his wife's bed, anxiously waiting for her to wake up. She was alright, Jennifer had said, just a little beaten up and bruised, but remarkably no broken bones. Even as she fell asleep, she had still been clutching the gold ring, letting go only as her body finally relaxed. It had pinged as it bounced off the floor at his feet and he had quietly placed it on the table next to her. That was a good sign, he thought, but he wouldn't put it back on until she returned it to him. If she returned it. Those days of deceiving her had been the hardest of his life. He had lain in bed next to her, his whole body aching to hold her, to make love to her, and it had been the worst kind of torture. It was easier if he came to bed in the early hours and got up first. That way, he could at least curl up away from her, without having to face her reproachful and increasingly agonised face. Wearing his T-shirts and jogging pants had been more a way of protecting his skin from the sensation of hers, than any deliberate statement of abandonment: he just knew that it would only take one touch of skin on skin, one sensation of warm breath on his neck, and he would have had to touch her, kiss her, love her. He remembered with a grimace that day when her touch had been too much for him and all his pent-up feelings had over-flowed. She'd come to close, that look of love on her face, her body touching his, and he had forgotten his orders, the plan, everything in an instant. It wasn't until he was on top of her, that he realised he'd been a little too rough, allowing the imprisoned passion to break free and his brain took over his body again. Fighting with every part of his body that wanted her, he squeezed her arms just tight enough that he saw marks start to appear, the adrenalin coursing through him making him just a little more rough than he had intended, and then he had run from the room and out into the corridor, battling with conflicting emotions, knowing that he had probably ruined 'them' forever, but equally as sure that his erratic behaviour and her reaction to it would now be especially convincing. In the awful days that followed, he had resisted the temptation to see her, unsure as to whether he could keep up the pretence if he had. Sometimes, he imagined her watching him, wondered if she had sat in front of the monitors, and he had set his face in a stony expression, not letting his emotions out, not allowing himself to think about how much she must now hate him. And that last day, knowing that she was watching him leave, well that had been the worst. Now, he wanted more than anything to take her in his arms and keep her there forever, but all he could do was sit and wait.

At first she woke up with her eyes shut, sensing her immediate surroundings, feeling the cool sheets on her body and the soft bed beneath, then she slowly opened her eyes. Yes, she remembered now. She was back on Atlantis and there had been a familiar presence. John? She flexed her hand. No! The ring was gone. Finally, she focused on the body moving towards her. What did he want? How was he here?

She heard herself scream. 'No, no, leave me alone. Help someone, please help,' as she tried to fight off the arms that tried to stop her moving, striking out and pushing him away. She was vaguely aware of a bustle of movement around her, calming voices and the welcome return of sleep.

TBC

_A.N. It was so comforting to be back in body territory here. Please R & R if you want to see what happens next. Will she forgive him?_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for the lovely reviews, as always. Well, here it is, the last chapter. Will she forgive him?_

John staggered from the infirmary, trying to get a grip on his emotions. Why he had expected any other reaction from her he didn't know. Let's face it, he had deceived her, made her believe that he had rejected her, assaulted her and been branded a criminal. Briefly, he leant against the wall of the corridor and took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to break free, then he straightened himself, smoothed down his shirt and adjusted his belt, and strode purposefully towards Woolsey's office. There were matters to attend to and he had been away from his post too long. As well as a husband, he was also Military Commander of Atlantis and that, for now, would have to sustain him.

The long conference table held an unusual group of people. Todd was sitting at the end, leaning back on his chair, inspecting his hands. If you'd asked him five years ago, John would never have thought a Wraith capable of nonchalance. Mind you, their association with Todd had changed more than one pre-conception. What hadn't changed was the pair of marines, guarding his back. He was still a life-sucking alien, after all. Larrin stood seductively by the water cooler, her heavy gun in danger of pulling her trousers down at any moment. She was certainly an attractive woman and he had, BC, been almost obsessively attracted to her physically, but having the crap beaten out of you does rather put the dampener on a relationship, and he had tired rather quickly of her teasing and innuendo. Laden and a couple of Genii were in conversation with General O'Neill, whose hair was having an even worse day than John's. In fact, they were having more than a conversation: Laden appeared to be laughing at one of the General's jokes. So, the man does humour after all, John thought. Teyla, Rodney and Ronon were in their usual positions, now didn't saying that feel good, and Woolsey was waiting impatiently at the top of the table, shuffling his papers around and fiddling with his pen.

When John arrived, it was the signal for the meeting to begin. The alliance had been successful and most of The Trust's operatives were in custody. Jack O'Neill was perfectly happy to leave them in the hands of The Genii: he had a feeling that they would regret their actions even more than if they came back to Earth. The growing alliance between the two military groups was now more solidified and there was strong ground to move forwards. Todd agreed to test the new retro-virus and Woolsey promised Jennifer Keller's full support, as well as a return visit from his 'queen' if need be. Larrin was satisfied with some repairs to her ships and the promise of help for those Travellers who wanted to set up life more permanently on land. Hands were shaken, well all except for Todd's who still found a moment to chuckle at 'his little Wraith joke', and the various parties went on their way.

Jack O'Neill had one last task to do before he left. He felt greatly responsible for the fall-out between John and Catherine Sheppard and, if the man's expression as he entered the conference room was anything to go by, there was still work to do there yet. He headed towards the infirmary, determined to find some way to make it right for them.

She looked a lonely figure: the only occupant in a quiet corner. Although the lights were low, she had evidently been crying and he almost turned tail and ran. Jack had never been good with 'feelings'; yet another way he was like his younger protégée. As he approached, she jumped, then gathered herself when she realised it was him.

'How you doing, Doctor Sheppard?' he drawled, 'You did good, you know. That little boy is a delight and his mother has hardly left his side all day.' He cleared his throat. 'Look, Catherine. I can only imagine what you're feeling right now. Betrayed, I guess? Angry? I know I would. A little confused maybe?' Cat nodded and let him continue, not quite sure what to say to this man who slightly intimidated her. 'He loves you, you know. I have seen the way he looks at you, as though all his Christmasses and birthdays have come at once. I tell you, I wouldn't mind someone looking at me like that. When you get to my grand old age, you do more of the looking!' He coughed again. 'Anyway, I guess some pretty bad things went down between you and I could see by the look on his face this morning that your reunion didn't go too well, but you need to know that you must not throw this away. If you're lucky you meet someone so special once in a lifetime and when you do, you need to hold on to them tightly. There are very few second chances. Believe me, I speak from experience.' He finished, and with a rather embarrassed grin shook her hand firmly and strode from the room.

She lay still for several minutes, slightly stunned by the unexpected visitation, reached out for the gold ring, still on the table where John had put it, and placed it in the palm of her hand, staring at it as though it had all the answers. Then, with a frown, she placed it back on the table and turning her back to it, curled up under the covers.

***

Ronon, Teyla and Rodney felt like they had been here before, only this time the solution was more difficult to find. Cat had come out of the infirmary and moved straight back into her small rooms by the Archives. John had moved back into his old quarters, expunging any sign of the ghastly Buxton, his golf-clubs, skateboard and other paraphernalia back in its old places. As far as the friends could see, there was a gulf between the couple that was widening daily. If their paths ever did cross, they studiously ignored each other, with a kind of forced casual coldness which was extremely uncomfortable for all those who cared for them.

The scene in the infirmary had played on John's mind over and over again. When she had woken, all she had seen was John the attacker, the potential rapist, not the loving husband that he was so desperate to be. He had decided to let it lie, not wanting to push her to the point where she asked for a divorce: that would seem too final. Ever the master of ignoring feelings, he pushed the whole thing into the place where he put all the rest of the crap. She, in turn, had shocked herself with the strength of her reaction and, while Jack O'Neill's little talk had hit home, she was damned if she would make the first move. He had put her through hell and no amount of apology could make up for that. In any case, she wondered if she could ever feel comfortable in his company again. His attack had brought back all the childhood fears and memories that she thought she'd buried.

The three friends observed this painful charade for several weeks before they finally got together to discuss what to do. Ronon was all for the 'lock 'em up together and see what happens' approach that had worked so effectively before, but Teyla was convinced that a more subtle approach was needed. It the whole situation were not so tragic, it would be laughable. The two were so alike, both stubborn, both emotionally fragile, both able to parcel up the pain and hide it deep down, that they needed each other's strength and love to get through this. Teyla knew that she had to make them realise that their lives were better together than apart.

They decided to try a talking approach first and since Ronon hated talking and Rodney liked it too much, Teyla was elected the spokesperson: she was not averse to a little subterfuge. She tried first with John. It was about time he did a little sparring anyway, so she asked him to join her in the gym. He was just towelling himself down, moaning about yet another beating from her, when she took the bull between the horns and started.

'Do you know, John, everyone is very worried about Cat.' Well, that got his attention at least! He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. 'It is many weeks now since I have seen her smile and she looks very pale and ill.' She hesitated dramatically before continuing. Well, here goes, she thought. 'It is not good for her, you know, in her condition, to not be looking after herself.'

Well, that certainly got the desired reaction. John jumped up, dropping the towel on the floor. 'What do you mean 'in her condition', Teyla?' She deliberately paused, trying to feign awkwardness and embarrassment, which wasn't too difficult given how awkward and embarrassed she was feeling in any case. 'Teyla? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?' he shouted.

'Oh, I am sorry John, I have really said too much already. You will have to speak to Cat.' And with that parting shot, she left what she said to sink in. She hadn't really lied, she told herself. I mean, her condition is not very good, though not in the way that John was now thinking.

It was more difficult to work out what to say to Cat. With John, a straightforward approach was possible, but with Cat, whose cunning often matched her name, she would need to be a little more subtle. Cat was sitting at her desk, in the depths of the Archive Department, as usual. And, yes, Teyla thought, she does look a little pale.

'Hello, Cat. How are you?' She sat on the edge of the desk.

'Oh, you know, the usual,' grumbled her friend.

Here goes. 'I was talking to Rodney this morning about John.' A brief glimmer of interest? 'He's very worried about him.' A little more? 'He has lost a lot of weight recently and Rodney says that he has been coughing quite a lot.' Now, he did have a slight cold, so that wasn't really a lie. 'And he has been visiting Jennifer too, and you know how much he hates the infirmary.' A silent nod. 'Katie tried to talk to Jennifer, but medical confidentiality and all that, well she would not say anything.' True at least about the not saying anything! 'But Rodney thinks that John picked up something when he was away from Atlantis, and he does not appear to be getting any better.' Well, that was true, though the sickness was more in the heart than the body.

Cat paused for a minute. 'I didn't know he was ill, Teyla.' Teyla smiled at her friend's sympathetic character. 'I'd better go and see him. Make sure he's okay.'

Teyla smiled to herself as she left. Now, it was up to them.

John took a while deciding what to wear. He didn't want to go in his uniform, too formal, but he didn't want to appear too provocative either, and that was difficult given the love Cat had for most of his casual clothes. He allowed himself to briefly revel in the many occasions when loose shirts and jeans had been a precursor to something much more interesting. No, the plaid shirts would not do, but the white linen one could be a problem too, given the evening they had spent on one of the upper balconies. The panda t-shirt was a definite no-no, and that was a more painful reminder of recent events, and jogging pants, well, if he let his brain go to that particular occasion then his body would follow suit all to readily! The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was coming on to her. Oh God, this was ridiculous. He was trying to dress in a way that didn't make his wife feel that he was attracted to her. In the end, he settled on a plain shirt, a button more done up than usual, and a looser pair of jeans, hoping that they would set the right tone for what was bound to be a difficult conversation.

Cat was performing almost exactly the same ritual. She'd long ago packed away and disposed of all her figure hiding clothes, the 'before John' wardrobe. She knew she couldn't wear any of the soft, clinging dresses that he had loved to run his hands over, and she sure as hell wasn't going to wear the maid's uniform that was still hanging in her wardrobe, having never been returned to the theatre group! In fact, most of her clothes were designed to incite his interest, she now realised. Buried in the bottom of the cupboard was a pair of older jeans and a t-shirt with some kind of sparkly logo on it. Oh, well, that would just have to do. She'd cover it up with her black jacket anyway.

She was just heading out of her rooms when she came face to face with the man she was going to see. He looked a little flustered, she thought, and yes, he certainly looked pale.

'Oh, I was just coming to see you,' she stuttered, flushing bright pink as she did.

'I, um, can I come in. I think we need to talk,' he said.

They sat awkwardly, he on the little hard chair and she perched on the edge of the small bed. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers in the way he had when he was nervous, then looked up and met her eyes. She was taken aback by the look in them. There was pain, hurt and concern, as well as that old look of love that made her knees turn to jelly. Often embarrassed by expressing feelings, John was paradoxically excellent at making eye-contact. It was one of the things she loved about him.

'I was talking to Teyla today,' he began. 'I just want you to know, that I am here for you if you need me. I won't let you down again.'

'I, er, okay,' she answered slowly. 'Thanks.' She could have launched into him about letting her down, but he looked so fragile and sweet, that she bit her tongue. 'You know, you look a little pale, John. Have you been looking after yourself?' Oh, that sounded really 'wifey'. Or was it motherly?

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both looking at their feet, or anywhere else other than each other. John made a decision. This had gone on for long enough, and he needed to hold her in his arms again. With a quick movement, he crossed the distance between them and put his arms around her, pushing her head into his shoulder. For a moment he thought that she would keep her arms by her sides, then she started to move her hands up his back until he could feel the coolness of her palms through his shirt. Still, he held himself back from doing anymore, scared that she'd pull away in fear from him again and they sat in each other's arms for a long time. Eventually, he was aware of an almost imperceptible shaking and, placing his left hand under her chin raised her face to his.

Cat was crying. The feel of him next to her, and the realness of his presence was too much. When he lifted her chin up, so gently, she saw the doubt and hesitation in his eyes. 'John, you need to talk to me. I need you to explain why you cut me off like you did. I need you to talk to me about that last day, when I came to see what the matter was.' She struggled to get the words out, not able to describe what had really happened between them.

He told her then. All the feelings that had been building, the pain at sleeping near to her but not being with her, how sorry he was, that he knew he'd gone too far, could she ever forgive him, how much he hated himself, hated what he'd had to do, that he'd understand if she didn't want to be with him anymore, that he'd look after her and the baby anyway....

'What baby, John? What are you talking about?'

'Teyla told me, she told me you were pregnant. You mean you're not?'

'And I suppose you're going to tell me that you're not ill either!'

'Um, no.' He'd looked a little crestfallen, she thought, when she told him she wasn't pregnant, then he began to laugh, a laugh from deep inside him and she joined him, in the realisation that they'd been 'set up' yet again. And somewhere in the middle of rolling around laughing, they began to roll around in another way, ending up on the floor. He lowered his soft full lips onto hers and kissed her so tenderly that she thought she would cry and, this time, she had no hesitation in returning the kiss, slowly pulling his crumpled blue shirt from his jeans: well the bit that wasn't untucked already, anyway, and running the palms of her hands up his smooth flat stomach, past his chest, before clasping them behind his neck. She heard his moan vibrate through her skin, as he pulled up her sparkly shirt, grinning a little at its awfulness, and unclasped her bra.

For a moment he raised himself on his knees to look at her. 'Oh God, Cat, you're so beautiful,' he whispered, with the husky voice that could still make her shiver.

'Well, you're not so bad yourself,' she laughed, and she divested him of his shirt. 'Mind you, next time, wear the blue plaid.' Unbuckling his belt, she giggled as his jeans fell down. 'Though baggy jeans have certain benefits!'

John wavered, for the first time in his life not sure how to make the next move. He didn't want to be too rough, or hold her too hard, awakening the memories of that awful day, but it would be blatantly obvious to her how turned on he was at this moment. I mean, she couldn't really miss it! Cat noticed him falter, and raised herself up onto her knees, joining him at the same height. As slowly and as sensuously as she could, she took off her clothes, enjoying the way his eyes roved over her body and then she watched in turn as he took off his boxers. Taking control, she pulled him down on top of her and for the first time in what seemed like forever the couple finally found their special connection.

Later that night, much later, curled up in the tiny bed, laughing at the memories of the early days of their relationship where they would wake up on top of each other, she reached onto the little table next to her and slipped the gold ring onto his finger.

'I love you Doctor Sheppard,' he whispered, grabbing her so awkwardly that they fell off the bed again. And this time, he was able to show her that he could be strong and gentle all at the same time.

THE END

_I am so sad that this one is over. Still, there are many more stories to tell. This is, after all, only the beginning._

_Please R & R if you like. What would you like to see next time?_


End file.
